A Case on Oxford
by EllyHolmes
Summary: Mereditch Daunchley, a young british girl, finds herself working with the best two detectives in London after a mishap on Oxford Street.
1. Chapter 1

BEEP BEEP BEEP

My alarm clock blared to life. Hitting it hard with the palm of the hand, I slowly arose from my bed as if I were Dracula rising from a coffin. Throwing my feet over the edge of my bed, I quickly lost my balance. Grabbing ahold of my dresser, I heard my mother yell, "Meredith honey, are you awake?" "Yah I'm awake Ma," I said wiping the sleep out of my eyes. It was a normal day. Just like all the others. I got up, fixed my hair, applied my makeup, grabbed my little leather bag, and went out the door with a bag full of Weetabix. Average. It was Saturday, and being my 15 year old self I had places to be and people to see. Kissing my mother on the cheek, I walked out of apartment and onto the streets of London. It was only 9, and I was to meet my friend Lacey on Oxford Street at 10, so I had time to shop around myself. My short plaid skirt blew slightly in the wind, and my black leather boots seemed fit for the crisp air. My white leggings had little blue strands on them from my long blue button up coat. Smiling to myself, I pulled out my cell phone.

Lacey: _Running a bit late, I'll meet at half past._

She was never on time, but I was early, so why does it matter? I walked at a brisk pace, and made to Oxford within 15 minutes. It was early, and there wasn't much a crowd. I walked below the glowing H&M sign to find the store almost empty. I walked around the displays before me, my eyes gawking at a blazer. I sped towards it, but before I could grab my size, a faraway whisper caught my attention. Something you should know about me, I always get myself into un-needed trouble. Or, as I should now say, trouble has a way of finding me. In H&M that cool February day, I ran smack damn in the middle of it.

I followed my ears. Holding the cropped navy blazer in one hand, and clutching my bag in the other, I crept towards the voice. _Was I supposed to be here? Was the shop not supposed to be open yet? _I glanced down at my watch. It was 9:25, I was fine. _Then why was it so empty? _I couldn't keep my mind straight. A million thoughts flew around, and I was trying to recollect my thoughts like Harry Potter chasing after the golden snitch. Now, deep inside, I knew I should've walked away when I heard the man on the phone first speak. His voice was cold as ice, and it pieced my mind as he spoke. "It's clear, I swear. I locked the door." I took a step back. I was inside. He locked the door. I wasn't supposed to be here. But I stayed. "I've got it too, exactly how you wanted it." As carefully as I could I peered over the side of the rack. The man was tall and slender, and right away I knew I had seen him before. But where? His blonde hair was slicked back, and he hadn't shaved in a few days, for there was stubble on his chin. He was wearing a business suit and a long jacket, he looked very professional, but his essence made me uncomfortable. Suddenly my ears picked up the man's voice on the other end of the phone. "Are you sure the place is empty?" I scrunched up my brows. The voice didn't sound menacing. It sounded young, yet unafraid. Like someone who reads audio recording of novels. "Yes sir, I locked the door half an hour ago." I glanced down at my watch once more. I'd been there for a quarter till. I got in before this man locked the doors. "I'm going to ask you one more time. Are you alone?" The voice echoed once more. I held my breath, scared to blink. "Yes, I've already told you that!" The blonde responded. His hair was the same shade as mine, almost bleached. I heard a deep sigh from the opposite line of the phone. "You lie!" I could basically hear the empty shop echo with the mans voice. Shit. He knew I was there, yet he wasn't here. "You have an eaves dropper Moran!" I sucked in my breath and closed my eyes tightly. "Behind. The. Rack." The man breathed. "Ah, I see her." Moran said with a sly laugh. I opened my eyes only to see him for a split second before falling to my knees. I felt my head start spin on my shoulders as the world became a blur. I hear the man on the other end of the phone ring through my head. "She'll sleep for an hour or two." Then my head hit the department store floor and world turned black.


	2. Chapter 2

I awoke on a couch. The room had two full windows to my right, draped by dark green curtains. My head jerked up, I was no longer on the floor of H&M. How did I get here? What happened? In front of me was a dark wooded coffee table, and a crowded bookshelf took up the back wall. A desk sat between the two windows. It was completely covered with papers, and a single running computer sat open. Two padded armchairs also sat near a short fireplace. I sat up and immediately put a hand to my head. I turned my head to the left to see an open door leading to a staircase, and the wallpaper behind me had an odd black pattern. I sat back forward and saw myself hanging in the mirror above the fireplace. "Oh my god." I said, accidentally aloud, at the sight of the clump of blonde on my head. Running my fingers through my hair, an elderly woman dressed in a maroon skirt came up the stairs. She seemed surprised to see me, as I was surprised to see her. She was carrying a small platter; on it laid three cups of tea and a small cake. "Sherlock," She squeaked, "She's awake." I sat up proper, and expected the creepy blonde haired man to walk in. I was wrong.

A tall man entered the room from what seemed to be the kitchen. "Thank you Ms. Hudson." He said, his voice deep, and flowing like silk. I looked around and then up at him. He had, almost fluffy, black curly hair, and deep cheekbones. He was wearing a tight fitting purple shirt, his eyes a bright blue. Ms. Hudson placed the try down on the coffee tale. "I'll to be going now," she started as she left the room and went down the set of stairs. I stirred awkwardly. "Holmes," The man said, "Sherlock Holmes." I smiled slightly. "Hello Mr. Holmes." I responded in proper manners. "May I ask why I woke up in your-" "My flat. Yes, this is my flat." He interrupted me. _How rude. _I thought to myself, but didn't voice it. I glanced around again. "It's very," I didn't know what to say. I just woke up in a strange man's apartment. Another man walked in. He was shorter, and was wearing a cream coloured sweater. He had greyish hair that once used to be blonde. He looked around the same age as Sherlock, and was carrying a packet of sugar. Picking up a cup of tea, he sat next to Sherlock. Dumping the sugar into the cup, he spoke, "Nice. It's very nice." He smiled a quick smile aimed toward me. "Doctor John Watson." He reached to shake my hand. Accepting his offer, I smiled a little. "My name is Meredith," I said, tucking my hair behind my ear. "Meredith Daunchley." Something next to my feet on the floor caught my attention. My coat, my purse, and the blue blazer I was looking at were all folded neatly. I looked at Mr. Watson, then down at the blazer.


	3. Chapter 3

"I- I never purchased that." I said, worried of how, now it was mine. He flashed me a quick smile, "All is fine, let's be glad we're still not at the crime scene." Sherlock scoffed. I was confused, as you could imagine. "Crime scene?" I asked. Sherlock didn't stir. "The store you were in is now a crime scene. The man you saw- " I cut him off. "Moran, that's what the man on the receiving end said." John glanced at Sherlock, exchanging worried looks. "Moran," Sherlock started gravely. "Are you sure the man said Moran?" I nodded. "Moran." I repeated, pursing my lips together. I looked around the room again. "How did I get here?" I said, careful not to sound scared. "Carried." Sherlock said, not bothering to look my way. I raised my eyebrow at him, "_You _carried me here?" John gestured in the conversation. "No, I carried you here." I smiled. I found them entertaining, John and Sherlock. Sherlock got up and crossed the room, sitting down at what seemed to be the kitchen table. He put his eyes into a microscope and seemed lost to the world. Mr. Watson turned to me. "So Ms. Daunchley," I giggled slightly, "Meredith please!" Mr. Watson glanced at, the now distant, Sherlock. "Meredith," He started again. "How exactly did you get in to the department store?" "Are you interrogating me Mr. Watson?" Now he passed me the same look I gave him earlier. "John." I smiled for the first time, making a slightly amused face. "John." His face softened. "Yes, yes I am, because," His voice grew louder, "my friend over here doesn't seem much of a help!" Sherlock pulled his back and stared flattly at John, and, with an exasperated tone mumbled, "This is a 4 John," then hid his face once more. "Well, I got there, on time, to meet a friend. The door was open, so I walked right in." "You walked right in?" I nodded. "The man who was on the phone claimed to have locked all the doors, but I suppose he's a lier." John nodded, pursing his lips. "Then I saw this blazer," I picked it up, "But my over inquisitive mind heard an unusual voice." He nodded again. "So I followed it." "Stupid." Sherlock blurted out. John hushed him. I continued, "And I was standing behind a clothing rack for what seemed like half the conversation." Sherlock blurted in once more. "Maybe not." He got up from his chair and joined John, but pacing behind him. "Do you know exactly what he said?" He asked me. I closed my eyes, racking my brain try to remember. "He said it was clear, as in he was alone in the building." I squeezed my eyelid together tighter, thinking harder. "And he said... That he had it exactly as he had wanted it." "He would be Moriarty." John said turning to Sherlock. "Yes, I get that. But was is _it?_ What did he have there, in the very building? What else did he say?" I opened my eye again to see Sherlock sitting, resting his face in his fingers, two of his left hand and one of his right. "After that he just kept asking if it was really empty. When the blonde man responded yes, he caught on to me somehow, like he knew I was there, behind the clothing rack." John and Sherlock exchanged glances a final time. "I believe we have enough." He said standing up.


	4. Chapter 4

Since John stood up as well, it felt weird just sitting on the couch, so I followed as well. When Sherlock handed me my purse and started heading to the door, I saw what was going on. "You want me to leave?" I shifted my glance between the two of them. Sherlock opened the door. "Yes." I felt my heart thump to my stomach. _No. You are NOT just leaving like this Meredith. _The voice in my head yelled. I felt them almost closing in on me, so I took a step out. But before Sherlock could fully close the door, I stuck my black boot in the frame.

"Hang on a minute!" They now had surprised looks on their faces. "I'm not leaving! Are you kidding me? You hand me a mystery like this and you expect me to walk out?" They looked at each other. I sighed. When I was little I loved Nancy Drew, and I spent every spare minute trying to be like her. Now seemed to be that chance. "I don't care what you say, I want to help you two."

John started to say something, but Sherlock spoke first. "Why should we let _you _help _us_?" I made all the muscles in my face tighten, giving off a sad look. "Because I was _there. _And now, I'm intrigued. I want to help! And… I don't think you could make me _not _want to help." John scoffed. "I'm sure he could." He gestured to Sherlock. I rolled my eyes, shaking my head. "No, I'm sure he _can't_." I took a small step forward, standing in their doorway so they couldn't close it on me. "And, being the way I am, I'm completely stubborn enough to stand here until you two," I wiggled my finger between the two of them, "Let me stay." I crossed my arms, but kept my eyebrows raised like a puppy dog face.

Sherlock gave John a look, one that could mean either one of two things; I could help, or I was kicked out of the case. Though, when looking more carefully, I felt as though they were talking.

Sherlock let out an exasperated sigh once more, and turned to me. "You can help." I felt the muscles in my face loosen and change to a smile. I want to hug him, but I knew that it would seem awkward. Instead, I let out a small squeal and jumped in place once or twice.

"Thank you thank you thank you thank you!" I gave in. I took another step forward hugging them both in one quick movement. John was around my height, but Sherlock seemed to be feet taller. I took a step back. "would you like for me to come back around this time tomorrow? Or do you want me to sta now-" Sherlock cut me off. "It seems your friend may be waiting for you." _Lacey. _Quickly I turned around on my heels, but stopped before completely leaving. "Mr. Holmes, Doctor Watson," I turned, "It was a pleasure meeting you." I dug around in my purse, pulling out a patterned wallet. Inside, I kept a set of cards, giving my phone number and email. LIke a business card. I dug one out, and handed it to Sherlock. He pocketed it. Then I turned, attempting to pull over a cabbie.


	5. Chapter 5

The door of 221B Baker Street closed behind me. Had I acted professional? Did they like me? I kept waving my hand but no taxi seemed to want to stop. I turned around and looked up at the window. Sherlock Holmes stood in it, playing a violin. I could hear the music from outside; it wasn't a song I'd ever heard before. Maybe it was something new; maybe he was composing. I smiled in spite of it all, the detectives, the crime. But something hung in the back of my mind. I still didn't know anything of what was going on. Not a single bit. What did the slimy blonde want? I shook my head and started to walk toward the main road. I couldn't walk to Oxford Street, but I could catch a cab from there.

When finally a cab stopped, I checked my cell phone. 9 new messages. 4 from Lacey, and 5 from a new number.

_Mere- where the hell are you? –Lacey_

_You're late. You're NEVER late. –Lacey_

_Is something wrong?- Lacey_

_Which store are you in? –Lacey_

_Tomorrow. 2:15. –SH_

I smiled. I had put my cell phone number on the business card. SH… Sherlock Holmes. The rest of the messages were simple- from another sender signing –JW. John Watson. They all were wondering if I had gotten a cab- and how he was shocked Sherlock hadn't scared me off. I started to giggle, and the cabbie turned his head slightly.

"You texting Sherlock Holmes are you?" I froze.

"No, my friend Lacey. Why?" I responded, too scared to say anything else.

"Well I noticed you coming from 221B, that's why I stopped."

How did he know? I caught the cab off the main street. The man had slicked back black hair, and large, dark eyes. He looked friendly, but in an insanely creepy way.

"I have a little message for him," He started. I felt perkishly brave.

"And what would that be?"

"Tell him, that I owe him. I owe him a shot." He finished, satisfied with his answer.

"A shot? Like a drink?" Now I was playing stupid. Anyone who walked into 221B could see a gun in plain sight, or a bloody harpoon. There were gunshots in the wall. A shot. He meant a gunshot.

"You know perfectly well what I mean." He pulled over. "The ride's on me if you tell him. Oh! And add that Jim said hi."

I nodded and left the cab. Jim. I needed to tell him that Jim said hi. Who in the universe would say hi, not even hello, to Sherlock Holmes? I started to ponder when a cry cam from behind me.

"Meredith! Where the hell have you been?" It was Lacey. "I've been looking all over and I haven't seen you once! I texted you like," she picked up her phone. "4 times!"

"Lacey, I know." I cut her off. "Let's go back to your house… Now."

"Now? I just got here!" she complained.

"Lace," I looked her in the eye. "Right. Now."

"Fine- but you're paying for the cab."

I shook my head. "We're not taking a cab." Jim. I remembered. Jim. Jim Moriarty. The name on the end of the phone, who Moran was talking to. It was the voice. Jim, fill in the blank- Moriarty. I took out my phone and texted Sherlock.

_Jim says hi. -MD_


End file.
